


Under Cover

by Sjoll



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Wranduin Week, Wranduin Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26413108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sjoll/pseuds/Sjoll
Summary: Or, Anduin tries to sneak a black dragon into Stormwind keep.
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Under Cover

“This way, quickly!”

“I’ll have you know I’m being very quick, prince Wrynn, mind your tone.”

Anduin sighed as the whelp fluttered down the hallway. He decided that, at any other time, the sight of the pot bellied creature desperately flapping it’s unproportionally tiny wings as it struggled to race towards him would’ve been funny. However, the sound of footsteps getting louder and louder was enough to put humor out of his mind for the time being.

Wrathion finally caught up with Anduin, who nodded hurriedly around the corner.

“Shall we?”

“Indeed, just… just give me… a moment…” The whelp stammered out between heavy breaths.

Anduin peered back down the hallway again. A large shadow was approaching now, accompanying the ominous footsteps from before. His eyes turned back to where his friend had been mere moments ago, only to find empty air. Wide eyes filled with panic as he twisted around, desperately searching for the small creature.

“Wrathion?!”

A low rumble dragged his attention to the floor, where the black prince was curled up at his feet, snoring away contentedly.

“How can you even- !”

“ANDUIN?”

As that voice boomed down the hallway, Anduin knew he had only one choice.

“My apologies, black prince.”

With all the grace he could muster given the circumstances, the young prince of Stormwind crouched down and wrapped his hands around the sleeping whelp, lifting it close to his chest. As he snored, Wrathion seemed to emit a comfortable heat, filling Anduin’s chest with a pleasant warmth and flushing his cheeks bright red.

Not sparing another second of thought to the matter, Anduin turned and dashed around the corner, sprinting through Stormwind Keep with the precious bundle of warmth held tight.

~

“And you say he was carrying something?”

“Yes, uh, milord, h-he was holding something - close to his chest, it was. Looked ever so scared, if I might say so - uh, milord, sir.”

With a silent nod, Varian turned away from the guard and began marching down the hallway.

He had been overjoyed to see his son return home to Stormwind. The Pandaren were certainly a peaceful people, but their land was as dangerous as any other. Only at home could he truly be safe.

It had seemed however, that Anduin was intent on bringing danger home with him. The black dragon Wrathion had arrived alongside Stormwind’s Prince, claiming to be a guest of the crown. Under his son’s protests, Varian had tolerated this, even allowing him free roam of the city - under strict Guard and SI:7 supervision, of course - but the Keep was explicitly off-limits. Now he had received reports that Wrathion was nowhere to be found, and Anduin was mysteriously absent from his evening lessons.

“There will be no more black dragons in this keep…”

The King grumbled under his breath as he stormed towards his son’s chambers, halting in front of the wooden door. He raised his hand, ready to knock, but a voice from within suddenly froze him.

“You look so calm like this. And your skin… I had never imagined it would be this soft. N-not that I’ve ever thought about it, you understand.”

Varian knew that tone. It was one of wonder, of awe. It was the same tone he had spoken in when first meeting Tiffin, and it was the same tone he had never before heard in his son; until tonight, that was.

“Now, forgive me black prince, but this really is for your own safety…”

The King overcame his shock and slammed his hand against the door, shaking it in it’s frame.

“Anduin? May I enter?”

“Just- uh, just one moment father!”

Varian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He had no idea of the scene that would await him inside, and he was in no hurry to imagine it.

“Come in!”

~

Anduin could feel his hands shaking as he held them together behind his back. The door swung open and in walked his father, face expressionless with an idle frown.

“Sorry, I was changing.”

He watched Varian peer around the room before turning his attention to the prince.

“Your teachers tell me you missed your evening lessons. Is everything alright?”

“Ah, yes. I felt a little unwell, I'm afraid, nothing too serious though, I should imagine.”

Anduin inwardly cursed himself, knowing that his speech betrayed his nerves. The king nodded quietly as his eyes drifted across the room again.

“Will you be well enough for a meal later on?”

“...maybe not, I should probably stay in here. Wouldn’t want to spread anything to the guards.”

Varain nodded again. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself suddenly interrupted by a tiny rumble echoing out from the corner of the room.

Anduin felt his heart drop, only barely managing to hold back a curse. The king froze where he stood, peering at his son with knowing eyes.

A moment of silence passed.

“...your stomach is rumbling. I’ll have some food sent to you.”

Now it was the prince’s turn to be shocked to silence. He looked up as his father approached him and reached out a hand, ruffling his blonde hair.

“Goodnight, son.”

As Varian turned and walked away, all Anduin could manage was half a smile and “G’night father,” mumbled quietly. The door shut, and he sat down on his bed, stunned.

~

“This is very humiliating, you know.”

The muffled voice shook the prince back to reality. He walked over to the corner of his room and kneeled down in front of a pile of his bed covers. Lifting them up, he revealed Wrathion in his whelp form, laying sleepily on the pile of soft sheets.

Anduin smiled down at the lazy creature, shaking his head.

“Good to see you’re awake now. How can you fall asleep so quickly?”

“It’s a whelp thing. If we overexert ourselves too much, our body’s natural response is to rapidly conserve energy.”

“By sleeping?”

“...yes, by sleeping. We grow out of it, I can assure you.”

The prince of Stormwind laughed, standing up and throwing the covers back onto the creature.

“Hey!”

~

The moon was high in the sky as Varian sat down at his desk, chair scraping gently against the marble floor as he shuffled it closer. In front of him lay a pile of letters, all addressed in neat handwriting to the King of Stormwind. He picked up one at random, reopening the envelope and carefully sliding out the well worn paper.

“Dearest Father,

My stay here at the Tavern in the Mists has been extended. The healers say I will still recover, but it may take longer than they initially thought. I’ve been meditating every day, as well as taking baths in the hot spring. My bones may ache, but the warmth of this place always dulls the pain.

Wrathion has insisted we play board games every day. He says it’s to help keep my mind sharp, but I know he loves our matches. I do too, of course. It’s the highlight of most of my days.

I’ve told him that he can leave the tavern if he has business to attend to, but he seems to be content to spend his days here, with me. Some days he even helps me change my bandages, an effort I truly appreciate. Even simple movements can be a struggle at the moment.

A caravan of grummle traders are stopping by this week, I’m told. I shall buy something to send home for you - a little souvenir from Pandaria. This land is truly filled with beauty. I hope one day you will make the journey to see it.

I will write again next week.

Until then father, with love as always,

Anduin.”

Varian slid open a drawer, pulling out a small wooden charm. It was a circle, roughly carved around the edges and decorated with intricate pandaren designs. There was a small hole in the top of it, for a loop of string or rope to be threaded through.

The king held the charm in his hands, feeling the worn surface with rough fingers. It felt so small and delicate in his grip, but he knew it would not easily be broken.

With a sigh, Varian closed his eyes and brought the wooden disc to his mouth. He pressed his lips lightly against it, whispering aloud to himself as he did.

“Be safe, my son.”

**Author's Note:**

> GET IT, BECAUSE HE WAS HIDING UNDER SOME COVERS. HE WAS UNDER COVERS. UNDERCOVER-
> 
> Alright, I know what this prompt was supposed to be about. People being undercover, in disguise, hiding, fun stealthy stuff. But my little ol’ brain saw the word “Undercover” and had one (1) thought.
> 
> Alternate title: Varian goes into hyper protective mode, but then decides to chill.


End file.
